Falling In Love
by LitLove
Summary: She wanted to start her life ... in the city of her dreams ... with the job of her dreams ... and she fell in love. - AU/LITERATI; ON HIATUS!
1. Moving Day

Disclaimer: Not mine, never was, no intention of getting it, just having fun and no money involved. Happy?

A/N: First story, not much to say. Just keep in mind Jess is NOT Lukes nephew, he had a good life and he and Rory never met. And that my first language is german and english gives me quite the pain (if you're interessted, you can find the story behind it in my profile-summary. But I wouldn't be offended if you're not interessted. *g*). Hope you enjoy, feedback is love and many, many, many thanks to Kassandra27 for all her support and help and beta-ing. First chapter's to you, Kass! :) Oh, and if you could read it in 1/2 or 3/4, it just looks better. ;) xoxo, LitLove

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**FALLING IN LOVE****

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_The only way to get rid of a temptation  
is to yield to it._

_- _Oscar Wilde_, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1891 -_

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_FIRST PART  


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**Arrival**

And yet one arrives somehow,  
finds himself loosening the hooks of  
her dress  
in a strange bedroom-  
feels the autumn  
dropping its silk and linen leaves  
about her ankles.  
The tawdry veined body emerges  
twisted upon itself  
like a winter wind . . . !

– _William Carlos Williams_ –

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**Chapter 1 - ****Moving Day**

A look in the rearview mirror showed Rory that the U-Haul-transporter steered by Luke was still behind her. She was amazed that they had managed so long, after all they were driving in New York City during afternoon rush. But luckily they would arrive soon, only a few blocks left and she could start to unpack, organize, decorate, and furnish her new apartment. This evening couldn't come fast enough.

She was – finally – in the city of her dreams.

Since she was a little girl Rory dreamed about coming here, living here, and starting her career here. Here being the _Big Apple_, the city pulsating with life. Her life's dream. Over a decade she thought that journalism was the key to that. But in college she realized soon: It would be her old friends and confidantes, the books, which were going to help her fulfill this dream. The one thing always keeping her sane and sober and calm when everything around her seemed too much, too soon, too difficult, was no longer just her escape, but now it was her calling.

So after finishing college and the following MBA studies, she started to work for a small, but renowned publishing company in Hartford. More temporarily than anything else, but still, it gave her the possibility to apply for jobs in several publishing businesses in New York. Most of them answered her straight away and during this following week she would meet up with them for a job interview.

Rory shifted gears and turned the corner, the U-Haul-transporter with Luke and her mother still behind her. Only a few yards later and her car came to a slow halt.

The street was lined with trees and after a long, very cold winter the first green leaves could be seen again. In front of her was a building, raised somewhere around the last centuries turn, with walls of brown stone, steps to the entrance and a rooftop with a garden. Seven floors high and a cute old lady as a landlord, who lived on the first floor and tried to rent her apartments to young singles or couples because she could still remember how hard it was for her to settle in herself, some decades ago. The rent was quite cheap for New York standards. When Rory told her mother about it, the latter one joked around and told her daughter, that she just hoped that Mrs. Gettysburg (another side comment was issued, reminiscing about if either the lady was named after the battle of Gettysburg or the other way around) wouldn't turn out to be the lady from "_Duplex_".

Rory got out of her car and looked up the building façade. A few rays of sunlight were just beginning to flow through the windows of her new apartment. A smile crept across her face.

Luke and Lorelai stood either side of Rory and copied the young woman's gesture.

"I still can't figure out how you managed to find something such adorable. I mean, look at it! It IS adorable!" Lorelai snaked her arm around her daughter, "you sure you didn't bribe someone?"

Rory grinned: "Positive. No money involved."

"You didn't sell you body to the night either, did you?"

"Lorelai!" Luke shook his head, arms crossed in front of his chest, "inappropriate."

The Gilmore Girls just giggled and skipped away in the direction of the building's entrance. Luke just shook his head again and grabbed the first box, following the cruel some twosome. He was quite convinced that it was left to him to do the major part of moving Rory's stuff.

**oOo**

Hours later all of Rory's boxes were moved to her fifth floor apartment, 5C, and it was time for the mother and daughter to say farewell. For a flicker of a second Lorelai was about to start to whistle Andrea Bocelli's "_Time to Say Goodbye_," but then remembered that she never learned to whistle. And saying goodbye was hard enough anyhow.

Lorelai held her daughter in her arms and pressed her tightly against her body.

"I could move in with you," she suggested for the eighth time by now and squeezed Rory even tighter.

"And what about the Inn? ," Rory reasoned smiling.

"Sookie?"

"And who's taking care of Sookie and Michel not driving each other insane?"

Lorelai held her daughter at arm's length and pouted: "I hate it when you're rational and right."

"At least one of you has to be," Luke countered, while putting his empty cup of tea in the sink.

Rory giggled and Lorelai glared at her husband: "Confess diner boy, you wouldn't want to have it any other way."

A smile appeared across his face when he said: "And you know that." With a last nod and a pad on the shoulder Luke bid Rory farewell and retreated silently, giving the two women a few moments alone to say their final goodbye.

"Take care of yourself, you hear me? Promise me to not make any spontaneous nightly walks through Central Park and stuff like that, understood?" Lorelai whispered, no longer fooling around, but drop dead serious, her arms once again around her daughter.

"I promise, Mom." Rory nodded her agreement and put her head on her mother's shoulder.

"I love you, kid! And if you need anything you can call me anytime, anywhere. Remember, I'm just a little over two hours away."

"Only when you're lucky and don't get stuck in New York traffic." Rory tried to lighten the mood.

"Excuse me? You've seen me drive!"

The spell was broken and the seriousness had passed. A last hug, a last "_I love you_" and Lorelai was gone.

**oOo**

Cozy was the perfect description of her new home.

If you stepped through the door you found yourself in perhaps a six foot by six foot large "_hall_" in which her shoe drawers and the clothes rack found their space. From this space, a round arch led into a spacious living room from which a short hallway led on into the bedroom and bathroom. The kitchen was also separated by an arch from the living room, but was almost equal in size.

The kitchen was new and shiny, and fully equipped (a gift from Emily and Richard, she just couldn't say no to it), including a kitchen-island and a bar. Rory LOVED her new kitchen. She always felt the need to run her hands over the smooth, new countertops, and every time she did she giggled like a teenager. Lorelai and Luke had given her the perfectly matching dining table with chairs. "_An __original __Luke_", her mother had winked, and again the young woman had to ask herself how her stepfather was able to work on the furniture all these months without her noticing or even suspecting that something was going on.

Christopher had sponsored the lemon-yellow couch, which was so comfortable that your only wish was to never get up again. On the opposite wall was a huge shelf where the TV found its place, next to the books, which were next to more books, and next to even more books. All her treasures, from the adventures of her childhood to the romances of her youth and the extremely challenging literature which she read during her time as a student at Yale. Tolstoy beside Dickens and the Brontё sisters lined up to the Mann-brothers and hundreds of their comrades and friends.

And she hoped that they brought her luck, because if all went well maybe she would be the one who discovered the next Tolstoy.

This stuff shot through her head, while her eyes wandered, and she once again took everything in. It was 48 hours after she had moved into her new home, and virtually all the boxes were unpacked and everything was put away.

Rory had just unpacked a vase, when there was a knock at the door. Surprised, she put the item back on the table. She knew no one here in New York, except her landlady. Nevertheless she purposefully headed towards her apartment door.

Only moments later she was faced with a willowy blonde Wonder Woman, with homemade apple pie in hands and a bombastic smile on her lips. She welcomed her to the building and introduced herself as Daphnée from 5D.

Two hours, four mugs of coffee, three pieces of apple pie, and lots of laughter later, the blonde woman bid her farewells with the words that she was looking forward to seeing her new neighbor again soon. Rory nodded her approval and promised to visit within the next couple of days with a ton of donuts.

When Rory was alone again she continued her work of unpacking, she sighed once happily, and noted with pleasure that her start in New York couldn't have been any better. Now she only had to convince the various publishers that Rory Gilmore was the perfect choice for their company.

**TBC**


	2. Application Day

Disclaimer: Still not mine, still no money involved, still just having fun messing around with the charachters heads and hearts. Still happy?

A/N: Let me tell you, that this may be the first and only story I ever translate into another language. It's such a pain to do and it takes me forever to translate and those shitty (*sorry*) translation-programs always mess everything up. Just wanted to warn you. Thanks to my awesome reviewers, you're lovely! :) And special thanks once again Kass for betaing. You're my hero, Kass! Nough said, on with the show! ;) Remember: Reviews are love.

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**Chapter 2 – Application Day**

_CMC __Publishing__ Inc._ was the most prestigious and oldest publishing house in the eastern United States. With offices in Boston, Philadelphia, Miami, Washington DC and the headquarters in New York, it was also the largest and best known in the industry.

On the day of her appointment Rory dressed herself in a nice business-suit, put on her stunning Louboutin's, and took the subway to _CMC Publishing Inc_.'s headquarters, somewhere in the south of New York City.

She arrived in front of a skyscraper. The entrance was huge and modern, and nearly exclusively made of glass and metal. Rory looked a little nervous after constantly seeing people flowing in and out of the building. Through the huge glass windows she discovered a long reception desk, as well as the security gates, which she was to pass through on her way to the elevators. She strengthened her grip on her briefcase, took one last deep breath, and finally headed for the entrance.

It was her third job interview this week, but at the same time it was the most important for her. Being able to establish yourself a career at _CMC Publishing_ was the same as welcoming the world with open arms. Whatever she wanted to do in life. If she was able to get this job the doors were wide open for her. Unless another company offered her the opportunity of a lifetime. Which she really doubted would happen.

Rory stepped through the large glass door and headed to the reception desk with the security guy. He was a tall, dark-skinned man with no hair and deep wrinkles between the eyebrows, which he probably had contracted constantly.

"Good morning," she greeted him friendly, smile on her face (the famous and charming one), "Lorelai Gilmore. I have an appointment."

The man nodded, checked his list and nodded again. He held a plastic tub out to her, in which Rory placed her purse, keys and briefcase. Then she stepped through the security scan, which gave no signal on its own. She then took her belongings back and smiled at the giant man once again.

"40th floor," were his first and only words.

The young woman nodded her understanding before she stepped in front of the elevator doors. A few seconds elapsed before the _'__ding'_ was heard, the steel doors slid aside and Rory Gilmore was on her way to the interview that would change her life forever.

**oOo**

A beautiful, blond lady held out a clipboard with a questionnaire to her and told her that the interview would start in a few minutes.

Rory sat down on a large sofa in the corner of the reception area and started to fill out the sheet of paper full of questions. She recorded her full name, address and date of birth, her Social Security number, phone number, nationality and a few other details that needed to be known by her potential future employers.

"Gloria", a voice interrupted Rory's scribbling and made her look up, "my coffee and the New York Times please. Thank you." The addressed receptionist nodded and smiled. She accepted the proffered cloak and tucked it away seconds later in a hidden closet behind the reception counter. The person who had just spoken, was a handsome man in his late twenties, early thirties. He wore a black suit, his stature was small but well formed and his eyes were already focused back on his Blackberry.

He had disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.

Moments later, the blonde lady from before rushed from her seat – Rory assumed that she was Gloria – with a huge cup of coffee in hand, and the New York Times under her arm. It was not long before she was back and stopped in front of Rory.

"If you would like to follow me, Miss Gilmore."

Her nervousness was now somewhat noticeable, because when she got up from the sofa the clipboard with the questionnaire slipped to the floor. With a shy smile, she picked it up, but the lady had already turned away and was leading the way to the room where the interview was going to be held.

Rory rushed after her hastily and almost fell over her own feet. She was only able to catch the wall at the very last moment.

"Okay, calm down, Rory!", she whispered to herself, straightened her shoulders, put on her charming smile and followed Gloria once again.

A little while later, she stood in an open office door, the blond woman had taken the clipboard from her hands and her eyes fell on the dark-haired man from a few minutes ago.

His gaze was fixed on some papers on his desk and for a few moments it seemed as if he had not noticed her. But then he looked up and his amazing, hazel-brown eyes met hers. He directly looked at her and never broke eye contact.

"Miss Gilmore," he finally greeted, "please, come closer, take a seat." He pointed to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"Thank you" Rory replied and took a seat only moments later. He grabbed some documents from his desk, leaned back in his chair and struck one leg over the other. For another short while he immersed himself in the papers, every now and then half a grin slipped on his face, but other than that he didn't utter a word.

She nearly fell from the chair when he finally – and very suddenly – spoke: "How old were you when you read Ayn Rand for the first time?"

The question confused her a bit. How did he know that she had read Rand? Only a second later she remembered that it had been on her application. She regained her composure quickly and replied: "Ten."

"Ten?" it came back, amazed.

"Yes," she smiled, "but I didn't understand a word so I re-read it again when I was fifteen."

"Huh," the half smile from before appeared again on his face, "I never got through it and never had the nerve to try again."

"But you should," she called before she could stop herself, "Really, try it! _The Fountainhead_ is a classic. You really should give her another try."

He laughed heartily: "That may be so, but Ayn Rand is a political nut."

Now it was her turn to laugh: "That also may be true, but no one else is able to write a forty page monologue like she does."

For several seconds there was silence until he shook his head slightly, "I don't know. What would Hemingway say to that?"

Rory bit her lip. The words were on her tongue, but she was sure it would be her demise if she spoke them aloud. She inwardly started to count to ten, but it was already too late and it formally bursted out of her: "Please! Fifteen pages of Hemingway's _For Whom the__Bell Tolls_ and I was in the land of the deepest dreams. The man is the cure to insomnia."

Damn! Why couldn't she simply keep her mouth shut? Why did she have to have her heart on her sleeve, and today of all days?

It was quiet and Rory really couldn't interpret the expression on the face of her opponent.

He finally broke the silence, once again the half grin on his face, "Okay, following proposal: Tomorrow I'll try it again with Miss Rand and you …" he trailed off, looking amused, his eyebrows raised and expectantly looking at her.

Rory sighed – which he thankfully didn't know – more out of relief than anything else: "And I'll give the painful Ernest Hemingway another chance. I promise. "

"You know, Ernest only has lovely things to say about you." His face changed a little and now only the playful splendor was visible, but also certain seriousness. She couldn't stand up to this view, and lowered her eyes to her new pair of _Louboutin's_.

Once again it was the man in front of her who broke the silence: " Well, Miss Gilmore, how does Monday, nine o'clock in the morning sound to you? I really would like you to meet your new colleagues. "

She was so surprised that she again almost slipped off the chair.

"Pardon?"

Surprised was an understatement. Her eyes must have looked like two plates.

He smiled at her – no half-grin this time, but a full, honest smile – and repeated: "I would like you to meet your new colleagues. I just offered you a job and I would be very happy if you accepted it."

Rory was looking for the right words: "That's it? That was my whole job interview? A brief discussion about Rand and Hemingway? It took less than two minutes! "

He simply nodded. Then there was more silence.

The surprise was still trying to sink in, and after a few seconds she almost breathlessly said, "Monday sounds great."

"Great," he confirmed, and rose from his chair, the young woman doing the same. He rounded his desk and with his outstretched hand he motioned for her to take the lead to the door.

As they stood in front of each other in the doorway, he held out his hand in greeting, and he addressed her one last time: "Gloria will accompany you to Karen Holmes, our director of human resources. I will call her right away and give her notice that you are coming. She will then discuss further details with you. And before I forget: My name is Jess Mariano. I am the 'M' in _CMC __Publishing,_ and your new boss."

**TBC**


	3. Confession Day

Disclaimer: Nothing's mine ... except for Daphnée. Really guys, would I be here wirting fanfiction if everything was mine? Right!

A/N: Life turned into a hectic mess the last couple of months and I'm really sorry for the lack in updating. Hopefully the next chapter will be done sooner. Once again many, many thanks to my lovely reviewers. You always make my day! And to my amazing beta Kassandra27. She also makes my day! :) Hope you enojy! And always remember: Reviews are love!

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**Chapter 3 – Confession Day**

Harry stopped in the doorway of her office and told her that the case room just called and said that the manuscript still didn't arrived.

"This cannot be true, I sent Mitchy to bring it over two hours ago." For a moment she glared at the man in the doorway – although he was just the messenger of the bad news – before she grabbed her phone and told her secretary Tracy to please connect her with Mitchy, one of the delivery-guys of the company.

Mitchy normally was the fastest and most reliable messenger in the house and there had never been any problems. She heard a noise via the phone and the second later someone picked up. Someone alien. Definitely not Mitchy. The young woman wanted to know who was at the other end of the line (and was about to tell Tracy that she probably dialed the wrong number), when the stranger explained that he was the taxi driver, who hit the poor messenger a while ago and that the paramedics were about to load him into the ambulance. It cracked again in the line and suddenly Mitchy was at the other end.

"Miss Gilmore? I'm so, so sorry. I drove around a corner and there was a car and it got in my way and I had to sidestep, but then there was the taxi and it hit me and I think my leg is broken, at least it feels like it's broken, but nothing happened with the manuscript, I swear, I didn't let it out of my sight or my hands at any second. The paramedics didn't let me make a call or else I would have called you already ..." He bubbled away in frantic despair. He was in his early twenties, not the brightest of all heads, but friendly and honest and he loved his job dearly, which he was afraid to lose in this moment.

Rory interrupted his panic in a quiet voice, only wanting to know how he was. The recently felt anger already gone. She wanted to know whether he had any other injuries, if she should call someone and where he would be brought to by the paramedics. She also assured him that he didn't need to worry about his job and that she would send someone over to pick up the manuscript. He should just remain calm and make sure that he will recover quickly. She wished him good luck and hung up.

**oOo**

The next time she looked at her laptop to see how late it was, it was after ten clock in the evening. With a sigh she leaned back in her chair for the first time in nearly eight hours.

She informed Mitchys girlfriend and his parents about his accident, ordered some flowers to be delivered, a get-well-soon card and chocolate, commissioned another messenger to get the manuscript from the hospital and deliver it as soon as possible to the case room. Further she informed the case room itself that the messenger was delayed due to an accident, but that the manuscript would be with them within the next hour. She had served the agent of the author a thousand and one lies, told him that there were no problems, that the book was already with the typesetter and would go into print in the next couple of days (in the recent months she blossomed to an amazing white liar).

In between, of course, she needed to do all the other work which also would have been there without the chaos of the accident. With Thomas from the finance department, she had to compare the quarterly figures. The book tour of one of her authors missed the last organizational details. A new manuscript landed on her table, as well as the print approval for an advertising campaign for one of the new women's magazines.

"I heard you had quite the busy day, Rory. " The well-known voice tore her out of her thoughts and she looked up from her work with a smile.

Jess Mariano stood leaning against the door frame, the tie no longer in its place around his neck, the top buttons of the shirt already open. A wild strand of hair fell over his forehead and his face showed the famous half-grin.

"Every day here is _'quite the busy day'_. I never experience a single boring day since I started to work at _CMC_. " she replied, leaning her arms on the desk.

"Does this have a negative ring to it?" His voice gave the playful surprise away.

"Never. At least not in front of the Big Boss." Rory countered with a shrug, but also her smile chastised the statement a lie. He simply nodded.

"Care to join me for an after-work drink? I'll pay. And I promise that the Big Boss will never hear of this conversation." he suggested. Rory nodded, grabbed her coat and purse and together they left her office and shortly thereafter the building.

**oOo**

"O.M.G.! You're fallin' for your boss!" Daphnée shrieked while she took another chocolate glazed Donut filled with Bavarian crème off the plate and threw herself deeper into the cushions of Rory's lemon-yellow couch.

The young Gilmore rolled her eyes as she bit into her own Brownie. She would probably never get used to the fact that Daphnée never said the "Oh my God!" in the old fashioned way, but instead used the short, normally written form for this purpose. Nobody did this, except for her.

"Daph, that's bull and you know it." Rory countered fast, before her neighbor and friend could draw any further conclusions.

"Rory!" Daphnée cried with a nearly hysteric voice, "he asked you out on a date! And you said yes!"

"It was just an after-work drink, not a date! We sat there for maximum 45 minutes. I had an awful busy and exhausting day, he heard about it and invited me on short notice. Because he's my boss and he's looking out for his employees. Which really is a very good attribute, if you ask my opinion?"

Rory sipped at her coffee. She loved Daphnée dearly, but her keen interest in Rory's love life (or should she say her non-existing love life?) didn't make it any easier to endure her all the time. Not to mention, that in connection with her and Jess Mariano you couldn't even speak of a love affair. He was the boss, she was the employee. A purely professional relationship.

In the recent months she also blossomed to an amazing self denier when it came to certain aspects of her life.

In fact the truth was that Jess and herself crept around each other for weeks, if not months. When they met in the hallway both of their faces had a huge smile on it and they nodded at each other happily. Or exchanged a few words when their schedule allowed it. When they had a meeting, it happened again and again that their hands would accidentally touch whenever they reached simultaneously for any documents and later when they said their good-byes, he always opened the door for her and placed his hand briefly on her lower back. It became a habit that at least once a week he would stop by at her office before he left work at night and inquired how she was doing. Sure, he also did that with many others of her colleagues too, but definitely not in such regular intervals. Then he stood in her office and they talked, discussed books, music and movies, and noticed usually much too late - but also without regret - that they entirely abandoned the work-related topics.

But when Daphnée then started to point out that there maybe was something more going on, a part in Rory just shut down. Because she wasn't that stupid, naive girl she used to be, the one who imagined that there was such a thing like _fairy-tale-__love_.

In High School she had comfortable, reliable Dean at her side, and she misunderstood affectionate care for love. It was his proposal after they graduated High School which opened her eyes. Dean moved away after she rejected him and she only saw him once in a while when he was visiting his parents in Stars Hollow.

But after High School she went to college and there – so naively at that time - she fell in love with Logan Huntzberger. She believed at that time that he was the One and Only for her and that their love was meant to be.

She burned her finger, that's what happened. No _happily__ever__after_, but a broken heart. She was not bitter about it, she had only learned her lesson. Somehow she was even grateful, because he had opened her eyes to the fact that life doesn't always work out like it seemed to her while living in Stars Hollow: Simple, straightforward and only designed to embrace Rory Gilmore with open arms.

Therefore, it was out of question for her to over-analyze this attraction, which was definitely there. She found him attractive, he found her attractive. He was the boss, she was the employee. End of story.

"Puh-lease!" the blonde exclaimed indignantly, "Only once I met him by chance in your office and what I've seen was enough for a whole novel. Jesus, it was enough for a whole encyclopedia! This man has the hots for you. And you for him. I'm really surprised he hasn't given into it yet, one of those nights when he visited you at your office and torn off your clothes and you had a little fun together on your desk!"

"Daphnée!" Rory giggled half shocked, half amused and looked with wide eyes and a grin at her friend. It was now Daphnées turn to shake her head and roll her eyes.

"I can't believe it! Sexiest and hottest man alive stands in front of you, virtually _begs_ with his eyes and his gestures and his unbelievably dazzling smile to bring him to sexual highs never before reached by mankind, and all you have to say is _'He's the boss, I'm the employee._'? W.T.F.,Rory?"

Once again one of the normally only for writing purposes used short form and it took Rory all of her self control to not roll her eyes at her friend. In addition, she once more realized that Daphnée really had a potty mouth. Even worse then Paris sometimes.

Unfortunately the blond woman always hit the mark with her last statements and Rory wasn't very good when it came to receiving obvious facts, which she herself fiercely denied (even if only to herself). That was also the reason why she snapped back, "Exactly, Daphnée! What the fuck! Do you think it's a walk in the park that I have to tell myself like a mantra _'Keep your clothes on, Rory! Keep your damn clothes on!_' every freakin' time I see him? Yes, he _is_ God's gift to women and yes, he flirts with me and yes, I find him very attractive and yes, I would like to do nothing more than to swipe the papers off my desk and have my – I'm sure – exquisite fun with him then and there every time he decides to stop by my office and asks me how my day has been! But that doesn't work!" she sighed once before calming a little bit down, "And that's because of one simple reason: He _IS_ the boss and he will _remain_ the boss, even if the personal situation between us changes. And it's not just about my professional future, Daph, but also about my well-being. Nothing would ever be the same again. And my life is good at the moment. It's really, really good. I like my job. I like to work together with the colleagues I have right now and I feel really comfortable there. I cannot risk all of this simply because I'm attracted to a man. I can't do that," again she sighed, "Even if he's the greatest temptation of my life."

She wrinkled her nose and took a frustrated bite off her Brownie. There were no words, both women forced into the respective corner of Rory's couch, each hung on their own thoughts. After a few minutes their eyes met and their mouths began to twitch.

"You would actually let him fuck you on your desk?" snorted Daphnée finally amused and Rory could not help it and started to giggle. With a violent blush on her cheeks she finally said: "I cannot believe I've actually confessed that aloud. Even if I used different words."

"And that's simply because you blush like a twelve year old school girl every time you use dirty words. But I'm quite sure that the innocent ones are the ones who are really the sly old dogs. In reality you're probably the dirtiest of us all."

Seconds later, they fell into another fit of hysterical giggles. If Rory wouldn't have laughed on this whole situation, she most probably would be in tears by now because of the injustices of this world. Why did he have to be the most attractive, funniest and most charming man she had ever met in her life, and also be her boss?

**TBC**


	4. Celebration Day

Disclaimer: Nada is mine. Zip. Zero. Nothing. Niente. Nix.

A/N: Woah, I didn't realize that it took me almost 4 months (!) to update this story. I'm sorry guys, but it's still such a pain. Last week I finally had enough and told myself to "_sit down, you stupid cow_" and to "_translate this f*cking piece of sh*t_". Sorry for the cursing, but that's just how I feel about it. At least the story's rated M, so people should not be too shocked when I curse ... or something different happens. *wink wink* Nough said, thanks to my reviewers and my lovely beta Kass! You rule, guys! ;) Please remember: Reviews are love!

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**Chapter 4 – Celebration Day**

Once a month – in the large meeting room on the 48th floor – the Management Meeting took place, always present were the Big Three: Christian Callahan, Jess Mariano and Matthew Corby. They sat together with the heads of the finance department, human resources, marketing, business operations, business intelligence, IT & technology and a few more, as well as all the individual team leaders from the publishing area, which included Rory, and which were directly responsible to the Big Three.

They always discussed current issues, upcoming events and the new releases planned for the next month. They talked about budgets and marketing activities, about hiring and layoffs, IT support and programming. About contracts with the typesetters and printers and many other organizational matters.

Thus, in one of the last meetings the release of Fredrick Grimwood's "_Helen's Poison_" was discussed. And of course, a new release needed to be celebrated elaborately. But the unrelated third party often didn't realize how much of organization was behind such a release-party. So marketing got the orders to find the perfect setting, to do everything they could to plug the party, and to invite the press early enough. IT & technology was applied to provide for the electronic support, for lighting and other technical gadgets. General Administration was responsible for the guests and the appropriate catering. Finance had to take care of the budget.

**oOo**

Rory had just slipped into her light green cocktail dress and afterwards adjusted the delicate, light-gray ribbon under the bust. The weeks since the meeting had passed quickly and the celebration was about to take place this evening. Her hair fell in soft curls over her shoulders, her feet were shod in soft, golden stiletto sandals that hurt with every step, but just fit perfectly with the outfit. One last look in the mirror, and she grabbed her clutch and disappeared through the front door of her apartment.

**oOo**

After dinner she stood together with Neela and Gregory from Matt Corby's team and they were talking about the latest movie with Sandra Bullock.

Neela was a petite African-American, in her mid-forties and was known for her patience and resilience. Her authors loved her, like her colleagues, and her husband and their four sons.

Gregory on the other hand was part of CMC for nearly 30 years now. It was Matt Corby's father, who brought him into the company. He was charming and polite – and to the surprise of many – he had never been married. He always said that marriage simply wasn't for him. In truth, a few decades ago the love of his life broke his heart and he had never recovered from it. So now he put all his energy into his work.

"Seriously, were you able to get used to the blonde? I didn't even realize that half of the movie was already over because I constantly had to stare at her hair," Gregory said in that moment and his face showed absolute disbelief.

Rory laughed and took a sip of her Martini. Neela found her voice first and responded to the testimony of the man, so the young Gilmore had a brief moment for her eyes to wander over the crowd. There were many who had followed the invitation and nobody could've radiated happier than the young author himself, who accepted the congratulations, and kind attention, and compliments.

But that seemed a minor matter, because two seconds after she had taken her attention away from the current conversation, her gaze interlocked with the one from her dark-haired and sensual good-looking employer.

He was across the room, half of the hall and around a hundred people in between them, and yet eye contact wasn't broken for a second.

"What do you think, Rory?" Gregory brought her back to the conversation at hand. She flinched a little bit, but quickly regained her composure, looked at the two people next to her and with an apologetic smile, wanted to know: "Sorry, what did you say?"

"Football or Baseball?"

She laughed out loud before confessing, "Neither. Most sports are off-topic in my world." A second after she finished her sentence, Tobey Higgins from Marketing joined them and Rory took the chance to excuse herself to grab another Martini.

It didn't take her long to reach the bar. She told the bartender her choice of drink and started to smooth out a few wrinkles in the front of her dress. Once again her gaze started to wander, and once again it fell on him, gazing back at her.

Just moments ago she had seen him standing with Chris Callahan's wife, Bobby, but now he was leaning against one of the gigantic roman columns. In his right hand he held a glass, swirling the ice cubes and an amber liquid – she guessed it was Bourbon – around, his left hand stashed in the pocket of his fancy pants.

"Your Martini, Ma'am." Once again someone else interrupted their starring-contest and brought her back to reality. She thanked him, took the drink from him and turned around again. For the first time fully aware that she was searching for him in the crowd. She slightly bent her head to the side, softly smiling, and raised her glass to him. He responded to her gesture with a simple nod and his famous smirk right before putting the glass to his lips and taking a sip from his Bourbon. Afterwards he pushed himself off the column and started to walk.

Directly in her direction.

**oOo**

She stood with Neela and Gregory, laughed and talked animatedly, sometimes nipping at her Martini, and simply looked stunning in that gorgeous green dress. His eyes followed her every move for a while now, and he couldn't get enough of watching her hair, lightly falling over her shoulder, or her delicate feet in the golden stiletto sandals, which accented her legs in a very endearing way. He imagined how the material of her dress would feel like underneath his fingertips whilst making out a mischievous glint in those beautiful, blue eyes.

For heaven's sake, he wanted her. He _craved_ her. More than any other woman, ever before. She was messing with his head, swirling around constantly in his mind every hour of the day.

She laughed again, and one of her hands came to rest on her collarbone. Man, what he would give if there were no people in this ballroom anymore, and that the hand which rested on her collarbone wouldn't be hers but his own instead. He saw a smile gracing her features before her gaze started to wander.

When their eyes met he could have sworn that the room caught fire. Instead she needed to turn back to Neela and Gregory to carry on with their conversation. He took a sip from his Bourbon.

"And Chris wouldn't believe it. Men simply are too blind for stuff like this … or maybe only Chris is too blind to recognize stuff like this." A female voice broke his concentration, making him turn around, taking his attention from Rory for the first time in a long while.

He saved himself the answer by leaning forward and pressing a kiss on her cheek.

"The kid in the green dress is charming the pants off of you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Roberta," he chuckled, keeping his voice in an innocent tone, one of his eyebrows raised. The next second another sip of the Bourbon burned down his throat. It was the last thing he needed if Bobby let something slip. He loved her dearly, but Bobby Callahan was a Gossip Queen. A bad habit she totally adopted from her husband.

She surprised him by lightly patting his lower arm and – although he addressed her with her abhorred first name – assuring him with a grin, "excuses, excuses, nothing but excuses, my dear Jesper. Your secret's safe with me. I will tell nobody, my lips are sealed." And with those words she turned around in search of her husband.

Jess – hearing his _own_ abhorred first name – only rolled his eyes, and followed her figure until she disappeared in the crowd. Her words ran through his mind, but tonight it was simply impossible to concentrate on them. The picture of Rory Gilmore in her green dress kept popping up in his head. Sense and cautiousness were set at naught, he once again turned towards her, leaning against one of the gigantic roman columns, and nearly instantly finding her figure in between all the other people.

He observed her, seeing her apologizing to her colleagues and turning around to approach the bar. Yes, she was _approaching_, not simply walking. Her hips swayed enticingly, her hair bouncing happily up and down, and the hem of her dress playing around her knees. She stopped in front of the bartender, gave him her empty glass and ordered a new drink. While she waited she smoothed out a few wrinkles in the front of her dress, once again letting her gaze wander around, like she was searching for something … he knew all too well how she felt.

She saw him shortly before taking her new drink from the barkeeper. A second later she turned around fully. While all their previous eye contact happened incidentally (at least from her side), this time she was perfectly aware of what she was doing. She raised her glass to him, her head slightly bending, and on her face appeared a beautiful smile. He would have loved to kiss her right at this moment.

He returned her gesture and took another sip before starting to walk in her direction.

He had to go to her. He simply _had to_.

**oOo**

Later on both of them couldn't say how it happened, but suddenly she realized that he hoist her up on one of the marmoreal vanities in a totally different part of the hotel, and a second later felt his slightly rough hands on her skin. He briskly shoved the green fabric of the skirt up her thigh until his thumbs were able to carefully brush over the hem of her slip. She spread her legs wider, at the same time pushing her hips forward so he was able to get nearer and to assure that she could feel him properly.

Her arms were draped around his neck. His lips pressed upon hers. Fervently. Pestering. _Boisterous_. And oh so sexy. The imagination of how he would taste was _nothing_ compared to reality. There was the lingering scent of the previously consumed Bourbon on his breath, mixed with the taste of lemon drops and spring air. His hair was short, and kinda bristly from the styling gel he put in earlier that night, but it somehow still felt like silk on her skin. With her hands she put light pressure on the back of his head so his lips would press even firmer on hers.

He took one of his hands from her thighs, laying it under her ear to hold her head in place and deepen the kiss. The other hand slipped away from her panties, back to her knee, just to carefully pull her yet a little closer to him and wrap the leg around his hip.

She felt his erection pressing against her.

A moan escaped her lips, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Her head tilted backwards, he took it as a sign to kiss her exposed throat, and neck, and collarbones. Once again she pressed his lower body against her own by pushing him to her with the leg wrapped around his hip. She felt one of his hands half on her back, half on her ass, while the other one finally found her breast. At the same time he licked and bit and sucked the soft skin of her neck, her earlobe, her collarbone, her lips.

"Jess …," she moaned again.

He needed to stop and look at her. She opened her eyes, slightly irritated, but at the same time very aroused. Their gazes collided, and he whispered: "You take my breath away."

She pressed her lips on his for a short, but passionate moment, the most beautiful rosé he ever saw tinting her cheeks, her eyes wide open, their gazes still interwoven. Her hands started to wander to his belt. And while her quick fingers opened the button and the zip, she answered him in a quiet, depraved voice: "Fuck me. _Now_."

"_Rory_ …" Her name escaped his mouth in such a raw tone, like he didn't use his voice in days, deep and vibrating. The blink of an eye later her panties lay forgotten on the floor.

And with a single, swift push he was inside her.

Maybe she imagined it on the desk in her office, but reality was _oh so much better_.

**TBC**


	5. Ordinary Day

Disclaimer:Nothing related to Gilmore Girls is mine. Never was, never will be. I'm very sad about that.

A/N: It's getting ridiculous, guys. Every chapter takes such a long time, it's not funny anymore. Please be assured, I really try to translate faster but it's simply _so damn frustrating_. Without the assurance that Kassandra will read over it after I'm done this would be an abandoned project. But here we go: Chapter 5. Let's say it's the silence before the storm. A very happy chapter with my favourite scene so far. I really love Jess. He's such an adorable man. *sigh*

Hope you enjoy, as always reviews would be lovely. You rule, guys! ;)

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Ordinary Day**

"_Helen's Poison_" turned into a bestseller and stayed on the bestseller lists for weeks, whilst _CMC Publishing_ returned to everyday life.

It was Friday evening and except for some lonely figures the office was nearly empty. Rory was hunched over a cover design and a front page flap, her eyebrows knitted together and deep in concentration. She absentmindedly chewed on her thumbnail, a bad habit from her college days. The _Yale Daily News_ had taken its toll; the nail on her thumb could sing a song about it.

"It's Friday night. You should be home and making yourself ready for a hot date," his voice tore her from her thoughts and she raised her eyes, a broad smile on her face.

He stood in the doorway of her office, both of his hands buried in the pockets of his suit.

"I thought you left already?" she answered, simply ignoring his allusion.

"I thought the same about you. Actually, as far as I know, I was to pick you up in half an hour?" He grinned and her gaze fell for the first time on the clock at the wall. Once again she hadn't realized that she lost track of time.

"Goodness!" She jumped from her seat, grabbed her purse and started to throw all kind of things into it, while at the same time pushing some buttons on her notebook.

Jess smirked and took some steps in her direction. Finally he leaned on the edge of her desk, his legs stretched out in front of him and his arms akimbo, before leaning over and whispering mischievously in her ear, "or did you _want_ to be the last one in the office?"

Rory knew exactly what he tried to say and couldn't stop the slight blush creeping on her cheeks.

"You would probably like that," she answered smoothly nevertheless.

"Wouldn't _you_?" he countered, eyebrows raised provocatively, just before pushing himself in a standing position once again, clearing his throat and calling, "good night, Tracy. Wish you a nice weekend."

Rory's head shot up again only to discover her secretary in the doorway, putting on a silky scarf. The woman looked up as well and responded with a clueless smile, "thank you, Mr. Mariano. Same to you. Good night, Rory." And with these words she closed the door and was gone.

The second the office door snapped in place. Jess took Rory's arm and pulled the surprised woman into his arms, while the other hand came to a rest just beneath her ear, his thumb softly brushing over her cheeks.

"I am _so_ looking forward to tonight, you have no idea." Back was the half smirk and he finally leaned in and pressed his lips on hers. A sigh escaped her and she needed to grab the lapels of his jacket to hold herself up as her knees went weak.

He stopped kissing her and whispered at her lips, "Let's get out of here, Miss Gilmore."

Rory smiled back, "Okay, Boss."

She slipped into her jacket, grabbed her purse again and together they left the office, his hand resting at the small of her back and never leaving it once.

**oOo**

Hours later she wrapped the sheet around her upper body while sitting up and leaning herself against the headboard of his bed, a content sigh escaping her lips. He lay beside her and his finger traced an invisible track up and down her leg.

"Why did you – back then – give me the job?" Her question came out of nowhere, her fingers brushing tenderly through his dark hair.

He just shrugged and answered: "You were the best." A second later he softly pressed a kiss, for a brief second, on the skin of her inner thigh. Goosebumps covered her skin immediately and a grin appeared on her face.

"Bullshit," she laughed, wrapping the sheet firmer around her body and sitting up straighter, at the same time repositioning her leg so he couldn't touch it anymore.

With a sigh he sat up, too, and leaned – just like Rory a minute ago – against the headboard of his bed before responding. "You had your own opinion and you stuck by it. You didn't want to simply agree with what I was saying, only because I had the power to pull the strings of your future career. Most of the others would have agreed full heartily, even though they maybe had another opinion."

He thought with this explanation it would be done, he raised his arm and tried to pull her to him, but then he discovered the appalled look on her face.

"That's it?" she exclaimed, disbelieve gracing her features, "Only because I was honest? Not my grades? My certificates? My curriculum vitae? That didn't have _any_ influence on your decision?"

Her trepidation attracted him immensely; he didn't even have a choice but he needed to continue this little game of theirs. Therefore his lips started to form his typical half smile and he simply shrugged.

He didn't think it possible but she even looked more aghast.

"_Really_? Nothing _at all_?"

Seconds later she lay beneath him, his arms propped beside her head, his fingers slightly brushing her hair. His body pressed into hers. It happened so fast, Rory didn't even register it at first that her position had changed.

"Of course there were other reasons," he murmured and she felt his breath on her lips.

"Pray tell," she gulped and silently cursed herself for behaving like a lovesick teenager. Never before had self-control felt so difficult. But she needed the truth. She was bursting with curiosity. Nevertheless her arms wrapped around his torso and she pressed herself firmer into him. If at all possible.

Jess' grin turned into a mischievous smirk, his features changing into something roguish-like, when he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Back then the only thing I was able to think about for the whole day was how this skirt _emphasized_ your legs. It should be illegal!"

A minute ago she thought nothing would stop her from kissing him after he answered, but now she gasped for air, pressed her palms against his chest, and pushed him away. With a fast gesture she pulled the Egyptian cotton-sheet to her and jumped out of the bed.

Jess didn't see that one coming or else it would have been more than just virtually impossible for her to escape his arms. He couldn't hold back his laugh.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, "You hired me because you got the _hots_ for me?"

His legs swung over the edge of the bed and he sat up. She fled to the opposite part of the room and paused right beside the door leading to the adjoining bathroom. He quickly jumped out of his bed but kept his distance.

There he stood, in all his breathtaking glory, the mischievous grin never faltering as he once again answered, "Correction: Because I _get_ the hots for you."

Rory huffed, her frustration clearly visible, she tried to flee to the bathroom when his arms caught her, one sneaking itself around her upper body while the other one slipped under her knees. A moment later he carried her – bridal style – back to his bed. His grin had turned into a smile.

"You want the truth?" She was only able to nod, fearing that her voice would simply abandon her. Jess put her back down while peeling the sheets away from her body, simultaneously starting to talk again, "Of course I noticed you. Already when I stepped out of the elevator and you waited there at the front desk, deeply engrossed in one of those silly forms. And yes, I really thought you were hot," he brushed his lips over her cleavage, it nearly took her breath away, "And yes, your legs looked _really very amazing_ in that skirt. It's the skirt I like on you the most by the way," a giggle escaped her and his hand grazed down the side of her body, before he halted in the movement and cupped her breast. A deep sigh left her lips, his touch making her inhale deeply. Her eyes shut and her head dropped back into the pillows.

Jess looked at her, following the lines of her face with his eyes, just before his fingers drew the curves of her cheekbones, the line of her chin. All the while his other hand caressed her breast. But he wasn't finished yet, "But you surely know that's not the reason why you got the job. I wouldn't manage a successful company if my decisions were based on such terms," his lips pressed down on hers and remained there for a few moments before he continued, "Your grades, and your certificates, and your curriculum vitae were the reasons why I invited you to the interview", he stopped his movements and took her face into his hands, softly forcing her to look at him. Surprised she opened her eyes, cornflower-blue met coffee-brown, and once again he had to kiss her before he was able to go on, "But it was the enthusiasm in your voice when you talked about Rand, and the provocative glint in your eyes when defending her against Hemingway which got you the job. It was the fact that after nearly fifteen years of absolute refusal you were able to make me give _The Fountainhead_ another chance", he stopped for a second and it seemed liked something was happening to him when his last words left his mouth, "It was your _love_ for books."

Squabble or not, Rory knew if she didn't kiss him right now she would die. Therefore her lips crushed down on his, she pressed his body to hers and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

Meanwhile Jess wasn't sure if she saw it, but something really had happened to him. Because for a short moment he realized that he had never before ran into a woman like Rory. And he probably never would again. And he should be damned if he didn't try to keep her exactly where she was: In his arms. In his bed.

And in his heart.

**oOo**

Saturday night 37 messages waited for her on her answering machine. More than two thirds of them came from Lorelai.

Message One: "Hey hon! Call me! I totally need to tell you the story about Michel and the coat-rack, and my mother thereupon … wait! Call me! This needs to be told _'live'_, you understand? Sayonara."

Message Three: "Babe, I can't believe you didn't call yet. In the meantime so much time has passed, I can only remember half of the story. Half remembering means only half the fun. I don't even know anymore which persons were included. Huh, you see? Only half the fun. So, call! Now!"

Message Fourteen: "Where are you? Four hours passed since my first call and now the story isn't funny _at all_ now because now I've _really_ forgotten all the details! But I have something new. It includes Luke and the failed attempt of a pancake. But more details when you call. Yes, you heard correctly, WHEN you call, not IF! Hurry up, Babe!"

Message Twenty-seven: "Okay, slowly but still I get worried. Do I _need_ to get worried? Oh my god! Maybe you are lying there, your beautiful face pain-distorted, but you can't reach the phone while I babble meaningless things on your answering machine. Call me now! NOW! With now I mean five minutes ago! I mean it! I count to three, then I disconnect this call, and if the phone doesn't ring the second after, I'll call the paramedics and the cops. I can't believe I didn't think about this earlier. The news is full of those story about young women who work way to much and then – suddenly – they have a heart attack! Okay, one more chance: I call your office. And if I reach you there, missy, you will be in BIG trouble! Putting your own mother in such despair, I can't … BEEP!"

Message Twenty-eight: "Rory, it's Daphnée. I'm sorry! I told her. But you know how Lorelai is. She called and chattered on and on about something like 'Rory is dead!' and 'She's lying in a puddle of her own blood in the middle of her super-fancy kitchen!' and the devil knows what else. I simply couldn't stop myself from telling her that you had a date? After that the line went silent for a second before she stated in a deadpan voice that she really finds it astonishing that your rendezvous seems to have started yesterday night? I simply told her that this is not my story to tell. So prepare yourself for quite some calls. Once again, really sorry, Ror. Which reminds me: When you come home I want _details, details, details_!"

Message Twenty-nine: "Can you believe your damn answering machine cut me off? ME? And then the line was busy! … At least it gave me a few moments to calm down, and I realized I overreacted. Yeah, I know, so _not_ how I'm usually behaving! But you are a grown woman, and you can look after yourself, and there is probably a good reason why you did not call your mother back. So … how old is he? Does he work in your office? Is he more the Sunnyboy-Paul-Walker- or the rakish-dark-daredevil-James-Dean-type? I need ALL details! There is only one reason a woman wouldn't call her lovely, wonderful, awesomely beautiful mother, and I'm quite sure right now, at this _precise_ moment, while I talk to your answering machine, your are totally occupied with canoodeling and … BEEP!"

Rory sighed and rolled her eyes before she grabbed her phone and started to answer her missed calls. And she prepared herself for a marathon, for she was sure her mother wouldn't stop bothering her unless she told her every little detail. A small smile grazed her features thinking about the fact that the next few hours would be spent thinking and talking about one single topic: Jess. Because – if she wanted to or not – in the short time of their affair he had turned out be one of her favorite topics.

On one hand this kinda disturbed her; but otherwise she couldn't care less, because for the first time in a long while she felt this dizzying, thrilling feeling: Happiness. And at the moment nobody was able to destroy that.

At least she thought.

**TBC**


End file.
